


feet on ground

by beanpod



Category: Power Rangers, Power Rangers (2017)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Canon, i had feelings about jason and they ran wild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:21:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24801511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beanpod/pseuds/beanpod
Summary: “You’re thinking about football again, aren’t you.”Jason wrinkles his nose. “Football’s not all I think about, you know.”“What do you think about, then,” Zack drawls, like he’s happy enough to go along with it just for Jason’s sake, and slumps back onto his elbows, his face still turned towards the sun.Jason wants to say,I think about you, mostly, and it’s driving me fucking nuts because I should stop but I really don’t want to. He wants to retaliate and ask,What wereyouthinking about that first time we kissed.Instead, he goes with, “Algebra, man. I’m gonna flunk.”
Relationships: Jason Lee Scott/Zack Taylor
Comments: 4
Kudos: 36





	feet on ground

**Author's Note:**

> i've watched the movie twice this week. that moment when jason tugs zack into the van and they share That Look? chef's kiss. 
> 
> initially i wanted to write pwp, but instead i present you emotions.
> 
> title's a line from "human" by aquilo.

“What’s a pretty boy like you doing here, huh?”

Jason rolls his eyes. Zack’s sitting at the edge of the gorge, dirty Vans kicking off into the air. He takes a seat next to him, squinting at the glare of the sun. Dirt’s gritty under his palms, the smell of earth and grass and the water down under thick in his nose.

“Don’t call me that,” he mutters, his fingers digging a little into the dirt.

Zack huffs a laugh through his nose, sits back on his palms, face upturned to the sun. He’s got a lazy smile on his face, lazy and hot as hell, nothing to do with the sun, and Jason’s tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth.

Zack says, “I’ve had your tongue in my mouth, Scott, I’ll call you whatever I want,” and huffs another tiny, airier laugh; it carries across the space between them and clutches at Jason’s lungs.

“You’re crazy,” Jason tells him, because he doesn’t know what else to say, because Zack slants a look at him that’s fond and amused and teasing.

It’s new, this thing between them. Jason’s not completely sure it’s a thing, proper. But here they both sit, months down the road spent mostly in companionable silence either at detention or at Billy’s or when he’s feeling stupidly nostalgic about football and sits at the bleachers with his hands between his knees and the right one won’t stop shaking.

(Trini finds him the first time. She says, “I know this was a big part of you, but you can’t let it define you. You gotta find it in yourself to move on from this, J.”

Few days later, it’s Zack who sits next to him with his Chemistry book and sometimes bounces formulas off Jason until Jason’s in hysterics at their lack of knowledge on the subject and their imminent flunking.)

“Told you I was when we met. Though, I gotta admit, as far as first meetings go, that wasn’t our best.” Zack tilts his head a little and licks his lips and then looks away. “You’re thinking about football again, aren’t you.”

Jason wrinkles his nose. “Football’s not all I think about, you know.”

It tastes sour on his tongue, not quite a lie, either.

“What do you think about, then,” Zack drawls, like he’s happy enough to go along with it just for Jason’s sake, and slumps back onto his elbows, his face still turned towards the sun. His eyes are closed.

Jason thinks about a lot of things. He thinks about applying for a part-time job at the library, probation or no probation, and skirting around PT hours because he needs tutoring in a few classes if he wants to graduate with a modicum of decency and go to college. He thinks about the delicate curl of Zack’s eyelashes when his eyelids flutter closed and the curve of his mouth when he smiles. He thinks about the training they all still do at least three times a week down in The Pit and how much better they’ve all gotten even if there (hopefully) isn’t another world-ending catastrophe around the corner.

He thinks, sometimes, that he never genuinely wanted to play football but doesn’t know what the hole in his stomach it left behind is or what he’s supposed to do now to make it go away.

He thinks about how much he _wants_ Zack, how much time he spends thinking about him—Jason’s pretty sure he’s not only gonna fail Chem but also Algebra because he cannot stop staring at the jut of Zack’s jaw when they’re in class, or how soft his neck looks and actually _is_ —how he’ll weasel his way into Jason’s mind at odd times.

He thinks—with a racing heart and sweaty palms and his neck growing hot—about the first time they got caught in the middle of _this_ , this sort of liminal space in the wake of the almost-end-of-the-world and tentative camaraderie that lead to Jason pinning Zack to the gritty floor of The Pit after everyone else had begged out of training to catch a movie at Trini’s.

Zack had looked up at him with clear eyes and lips parted in a grin, heaving for breath under Jason’s weight, and Jason had thought _I like you_ and then _I want you_ and he’d dived in.

And _god_ , it’d been—better than Morphing for the first time, better than the rumble and power of steel zords under his fingers.

Jason wants to say, _I think about you, mostly, and it’s driving me fucking nuts because I should stop but I really don’t want to_. He wants to retaliate and ask, _What were_ you _thinking about that first time we kissed._

Instead, he goes with, “Algebra, man. I’m gonna flunk,” sitting back and leaning onto his hands. He stares out at the open space in front of them, feels the tiny tremors of the ground under his hands because the ship still shakes from time to time.

Zack laughs, all of him shaking wildly. If Jason didn’t know how sturdy and solid under his perhaps-too-large clothes Zack is, he’d be afraid he might float away or tip off the edge and into the water below.

“Oh, you’re funny,” Zack breathes, slumping all the way to lie flat on the ground. He stares up at Jason with that fond smile again, though he does shield his eyes from the sun with his hand this time. “I can tutor you, you know.”

“You’re good at Algebra?”

“I’m good at a lot of things,” Zack winks, and Jason rolls his eyes so hard he thinks they might fall off his head. “Hey, don’t you roll your eyes at me, gimme a week, I’ll tutor the shit outta you and _then_ we’ll see who’s laughing.”

Jason shakes his head though he’s still grinning. “Doesn’t sound as promising as you think it does.”

Zack sits up and suddenly he’s closer, their shoulders bumping as he points a finger in Jason’s face with a smirk. “Don’t knock it till you try it.”

That was the last thing he said that first time he got on his knees in the locker room showers before sucking him off.

Jason remembers the distinct cadence of it, too, almost wondering, uncharacteristically unsure. The way he’d been flushed from the tops of his cheeks and down to his navel because they’d gone a few laps on the running track during a free period and the making out hadn’t made it any easier; the way Zack’s eyes had been a little larger, a little pleading, the twist of his mouth a little wry, like he’d been bracing himself for Jason to push him away.

But then Jason had kissed him, hadn’t him, hard and breathless and nearly vibrating himself out of his own skin and Zack had sunk to his knees and braced his hands on Jason’s thighs.

Jason’s mouth twitches into a smile. “Been doing a lot of trying, haven’t we.”

Zack grins, nudges their elbows together. “It’s been pretty good so far, we gotta admit.”

“Only ‘pretty good’?” Jason intones. “Man, that stings. Thanks.”

Laughing again, Zack licks his lips and leans in closer. “There’s always room for improvement.”

“You’re so full of shit,” Jason says, with feeling, he thinks, but leans in that extra bit closer until their noses are almost touching. “I’ll let it pass, though, because I really do need help with Algebra,” he adds softly into the space between their mouths.

They’re not kissing, not quite yet, and already Jason feels breathless.

“You catch on quick, Scott,” Zack tells him with a bit of laughter in his voice as he looks down at Jason’s lips. Jason smiles at this and Zack looks back up at his eyes. “That’s a good look on you,” he says. His hand curls around Jason’s wrist and he holds it there, warm and secure. “You gotta smile more. You’re pretty when you smile.”

Jason huffs a tiny laugh through his nose and feels his pulse pick up, wonders if Zack can feel it, too. “You only like me for my looks, then, huh.”

“Oh, no,” Zack shakes his head dramatically, a lazy smile on his mouth, “no, no, _no_ , Jason, my guy, I’m not here for the looks, or the quarterback shoulders, or the nice thighs, though they are quite nice perks, if I’m honest.” He licks his lips, shyly almost, though his smile is still bright. “I like you for who you are, man. You’re stubborn as hell and you’re really impatient sometimes—mostly with yourself—but you’re caring, you’re nice. You’re smart, too—”

“I’m failing Chemistry _and_ Algebra—”

“You’re smart _where it matters_ , you fuckwit—who the hell even needs Algebra out of school, anyway—like, I can get the appealing of Chemistry, I’ve seen _The Breaking Bad_ , but Algebra? Come on, Jason, it’s _useless_ —”

“ _Dude_ , Zack,” Jason groans, nudging their elbows again, “are you ever gonna kiss me or am I supposed to wait on your grudgy speech on Algebra?”

“This is what I mean about being impatient, Scott—”

“Fine, shut up, _I’ll_ kiss _you_ instead,” Jason says, and closes the remaining space between them to do just that. It’s gentle and mostly open-mouthed because Zack is still trying to nag but then he’s huffing and kissing back and it’s pretty awesome. Jason cups the side of Zack’s neck and he’s warm to the touch, too, with him lying around under the sun for who knows how long.

“What I was trying to say,” Zack says when he pulls back, lips a little pinker and eyes a little softer, “is that I like you. I like you just like this. Alright? I know,” he adds, slowly, like he’s tasting his own words before they come out, “I know people had expectations. I know your family had expectations. You had your own expectations of yourself. But theirs and yours are different, and yours you gotta live with for the rest of your life. You cannot get stuck on theirs, Jason.” He licks his lips, tips his chin down the cliff. “You beat _every_ expectation, man. Way, _way_ out the park.”

Jason huffs a laugh, looks down the rocky wideness in front of them. “We all did, you know.” He feels a tug in his chest and it makes him smile sideways. “Thank you,” he says.

Zack’s lips twitch a little and he whispers, dramatically, “This is the part where you tell me you like me, too, and that I’m smart as well and charming and that my ass is great—”

“I like you, too,” Jason grins, “but your ass is tiny.”

“I take back everything I just said,” Zack announces, and tugs on Jason’s wrist with a grin until they tip off the edge and dive into the water.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos & comments are appreciated! :)


End file.
